Growing Pains
by OverlordNemo
Summary: In growing older, Mao begins to discover what does and doesn't matter for him. While some show support for this sudden change in perspective, others fear the unravelling of the childish masquerade that was their daily grind. May be out of character.
1. Chapter 1  Lethargy

The white haired demon could barely get himself out of bed. He could feel his arms strain against the effort of movement, his knees almost buckling against the effort of holding him up.

He certainly wasn't fat. If anything, his slim frame had been kept quite athletic all this time from his constant hunting for "research subjects" to experiment on. Then again, that was balanced by his sedentary lifestyle and (mostly) sweet-based diet.

The only thing he really had to thank was his infernal metabolism.

He pulled on his gray shorts, dozing off after the elastic tightened on his waist. His mind blanked as he stared into space, a full minute passing on a nearby clock. He almost forgot his trademark red jacket. Every good demon needed something that fluttered dramatically in the wind.

He looked over his most recent plans, a magic powered gravity gun that would allow him to steal all the PTA money to fund his experiments. He could barely look at them without laughing to himself (or was it at himself? He couldn't tell anymore) and saying "ahh, what's the point."

He could feel his bed calling back to him, his eyes aching from his four-hour-long sleep. Maybe it was time to stop staying up so late. Maybe it was time to start acting like the dean.

Maybe he just needed a good night's sleep for once.

Two minutes. Two minutes of silence and quiet. Two minutes where his entire mind went blank and he could feel a dream slowly coming into existence.

His doors were torn from their hinges, a single well placed kick flinging them across the room, and through a window. He could just barely make out a heavy THWACK outside the academy building, and a voice saying "What the hell, dood!"

He could tell from the friendly "Good morning, Mao" exactly who it was. Was that an explosion outside?

She was barely three feet tall, wearing some semblance of a jacket with the sleeves ripped off (Or did it come designed that way?) dyed pink to match her short pink hair. Her smile was intoxicating, contagious, even. Her tone was as friendly as it was mocking.

It was like she was just _asking_ him to criticize her for being so nice.

He crawled out of his bed again, approaching her groggily. "Beryl, are those" he paused to yawn loudly, arms stretched in an attempt to wake himself up "My glasses?" He asked, getting very close to her face.

"W-what?" she stuttered

"I mean, they look like my glasses." he said, his voice half droning from exhaustion. He backed up again, looking to his nightstand to find his own pair "You take them from me whenever you want to look smart, right?"

"Mao, these are MY glasses. I got them after I became a teacher here." She sounded distraught somehow.

He found his glasses on the desk, didn't pick them up, and casually fell into the bed again. "Oh." He pulled the blanket over himself again, snuggling into it "You look cute with 'em. They suit you"

"Mao!" she tried shaking him awake, pulling on his shoulder from the edge of his bed. "Don't fall asleep on me saying that crap! We have work to do today"

"The dean's taking a day off" she could hear him mumble under the covers.

"Wanna make a bet, then?" She smiled impishly

"Mao's not at home right now." He took a deep, focusing breath. " Please leave a message after the beep" he let it go, feeling his body relax itself.

She sat for a minute waiting, staring at him until she could hear him snore. "Miserable demon!"

* * *

It had taken every ounce of effort in her tiny frame to get Mao moving. She'd dragged him out of bed, set the bed on fire, set HIM on fire, kicked his junk, and then set his junk on fire.

"MY BIGAEA THREE SAVE FILE!" He screamed, looking at his smoldering Slaystation Portable.

"I have a backup" that impish smile again, as she held up the tiny memory chip.

"Four thousand levels!" He couldn't help but pace back and forth. He walked towards her, a fist raised, then grabbed his arm and lowered it, a frustrated grunt.

"Mao"

"They were on my swordsman main!" He pulled at his hair and turned away from her, punching the air and flailing around like an idiot.

"Backup"

"Three YEARS of gaming!" Mao started stomping on the floor, frustrated at being unable to find a pillar to slam his head on. The walls were too far away.

"Hands?"

He turned around, his eyes opened wide, the realization dawning on him "Fine. If I win, you get me a new Slaystation. And that chip. And five backups"

"And if I win, blood bank!" She said grinning wide.

_There was always something about that smile._


	2. Chapter 2  The Dean and The Delinquent

She'd managed to drag him out of his fortress, pulling him past the massive iron doors and obsidian classrooms to the outside streets. Students and teachers ignored the pair, having seen this routine so many times that some of the slower students considered it a weekly show. He was their overlord, and dean of the school. She was the school's number one delinquent, delinquent _teacher, _even; constantly donating blood, making friends, helping the poor, and, of course, annoying the Dean to no end.

"Come on, Mao" Raspberyl said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him as hard as she could "We're going to donate blood!"

"That's the third time this month!" Mao said. When would this ridiculous routine be over?

"Yeah well, too bad for you:" she said with an innocent smile "I won the last three matches of Street Grappler 3, and that means you lose the bet!"

"Street Grappler 3 is too technical, and you don't play as anyone but Dragon, even though the game has a whole new cast!"

"Too bad for you, then. Better get used to donating blood!" She said with a sneer.

"I like Street Grappler 2 better. Or Street Grappler Alpha! At least they have characters I like! The demon community agrees!" he yelled, loud enough to wake up some of the zombie homeless.

"You lost, and that means you have to do what I want" Beryl said, going back to pulling him while he tried to resist.

Mao couldn't help but sigh. "Fine. Let's get this over with"

He walked at a faster pace than she did, forcing her to to keep her tiny feet at a jog to keep up with him as they walked to the blood bank. It didn't take long until he felt a sudden resistance behind him, something pulling him back as he tried to move forward.

She was fuming. She looked practically wounded, her fists clenched, her pose as if she were about to pounce on him.

"What?" he asked, his tone, inevitably, spoiled and haughty. "This'll all be faster if we just go and do it, right?"

"That's not what this is about" she said in a tense whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

"I just want to get back to my experiments! And my video games!" he yelled.

Her approach caught him by off guard, a tiny tackle with a surprisingly large amount of force behind it, making him fall flat on his back. She quickly sat on his stomach, legs to either side of him, the wounded expression not fading for a second.

"Beryl!" he yelled in protest.

"Shut up!" She said angrily, grabbing him by the collar with both hands and pulling his head up so his eyes could meet her glare. "You're an honor student!" she yelled. "Honor students don't compromise!" she recited. "Honor Students don't surrender" she growled. "Honor students" she wanted to punch him so badly. "Fight!" she wanted to slam her head on his nose "Back!"

"I just want to go home" he said with a tired expression on his face. "I'm tired of this crap."

She let go of his collar, ignoring the flat "Ow" from the overlord. "Honor Students don't beg" she mumbled, getting off his stomach. She looked away from him, her face in a sad, almost pouting expression. "What's the point" he heard her say dejectedly, as she walked away.

* * *

It wasn't really a class room so much as a pocket dimension. He had asked his trainees to take the week off, and they seemed more than enthusiastic to do so. The home economics teacher sat on a tiny footrest of a chair, his tall frame dwarfing it entirely. The table beside him looked so old and wobbly that it seemed as if though the four drinks that had been placed on it seemed to have been precariously positioned so the table didn't fall in any particular direction. A figure sat behind each drink, hesitantly waiting for one of the others to first try out the chef's new invention.

Finally, it was the bluish-purple-haired demon, the youngest and most handsome of the four (by his own accord) who sipped the steaming concoction. The oldest looking of the four, an angel with a peaceful expression on his mature face, smiled, lifted the wooden cup, and repeated the happy gesture.

"Is that... ginger ale?" the angel said smiling beatifically.

"and a hint" drama seemed to bleed from the purple haired demon's words "of SALMOOOON?" he asked.

Champloo couldn't help but smile. Even the strangest foods could be combined to create something delectable. "It's not terrible, either" Champloo said happily.

The other three figures nodded, smiling.

"Not particularly nice digs, Sensei" The last of the four figures stated.

The other three shifted uncomfortably. While they each had stood as figures for good, whether overlord, seraph, or cook, this fourth figure had always been somewhat vague in his perspectives on how the universe worked. While the other three had worked to raise worthy and capable progeny for the future of their respective dimensions (and some would say, other netherworlds as well) only rarely did the fourth show any degree of respect or care for anyone but himself.

In other words, the fourth was a quintessential overlord.

"How is your netherworld coming along?" The angel asked.

"Splendidly! Pram and the others managed to write enough in that stupid book that my netherworld is back to normal!" the fourth figure said

"And how did you manage to escape the curse?" the purple-haired demon felt compelled to ask. "After all, you spent the last three games trapped by that book!"

the fourth figure exploded at the purple-haired demon "FOOL! First of all, stop breaking the fourth wall! Second of all" he lowered his head in shame "I'm not sure my appearance in those games until this story is even canon!"

the angel could not help but smile and appreciate the overly hammy performances of his overlord counterparts. The cook shifted uncomfortably: being left out of a comedy routine was a very lonely feeling, indeed.

"A-anyway" the fourth figure continued "The other overlords helped me with that too. Without their help I never would have gotten my body back. Even got a mistress out of it!"

"Well obviously, you needed everyone's cooperation" Champloo said "Only use one ingredient in your recipe, and your meals become bland and unimpressive. But add an entire host of flavors, melding in a heated medium, and your stew becomes mindblowing! BOOM!"

the purple-haired demon and the angel quietly sipped their drinks, while the fourth figure could not help but turn to the cook and ask "You have STEW? And we're drinking this... this... salmon-ale instead!"

Champloo smacked his forehead dejectedly "Anyway, we're all here to discuss some very important business. And that's why we've asked you to join us, Z"

"Why me?" the fourth figure found himself asking.

"Because the Dean knows me and Vyers" Champloo said, motioning to the purple-haired demon, taking a dramatic flamenco pose.

"And he definitely wouldn't listen to an angel, much less the Seraph" the angel said calmly, Vyers nodding as he took another sip of the salmon-ale.

"But a man who is a fellow overlord! And a fellow protagonist!" Vyers practically yelled. "A demon who can show himself to be more powerful, not because he is evil but because of the access he has to any resources possible. Whether they be love, or hate, passion or stoicism, friends or vassals, rivals or enemies. A demon who can show himself to be all this deserves praise. He may even ask you to take him under your wing!"

"And what do I get out of this" the fourth figure asked, taking off his hood to reveal his long mane of almost-crimson hair.

"If you succeed." The Seraph began

"Then we write in your sacred book" Vyers finished.


	3. Chapter 3 A New Challenger Appears

Mao had asked everyone he could for guidance. Well, more like everyone that mattered. His prinny servants certainly had no advice. Almaz and Sapphire could have been more useful, but their very humanity got in the way of resolving these very complex demon problems. It's not as if though they recognized what rivals were, or the intricacies of the relationship between two rivals. They didn't understand the intricacies of a relationship between two rivals. How a rival was to suit the other's needs, pushing them towards greatness in their goals. They didn't understand that a rival was to accompany you for the rest of your life, as much an adviser and an inspiration as they were an equal and a partner. They didn't realize that for a moment, he had failed to do this for Beryl.

Instructor Vyers had given him a single rose, and poofed away. Champloo had poofed next to him while he moped in one of the halls, said something about Chinese noodles and needing to treat them roughly and with heat, while still expressing care, and eating them when they had chilled, then disappeared again, leaving a taste of salmon and ginger ale in the air.

He'd gone as far as to ask Geoffrey to turn to Aurum.

"what can I do to stop my rival being such a bitch?" Mao had to ask

"Perhaps you're phrasing this wrong. Everything is her fault?" Aurum asked, a stately brow raised in his questioning.

"well, she's the one who wanted me to go to the blood bank with her!"

"And you didn't fight back?"

"I just wanted to get it over with!"

"But isn't that half the thrill of having a rival? Fighting them back whenever they annoy you?"

Mao forced Aurum to turn back to Geoffrey, mumbling to himself "What do you know about rivals, anyway. You killed all of yours"

"well, I never" Geoffrey, more than a little insulted, disappeared in a hermetic circle, as he always did when he wasn't needed anymore.

"What an asshat, that guy" Mao heard from behind him. The booming, dramatic voice reminded him of Instructor Vyers. Though far more decisive.

"No kidding. That asshat killed my father though, so at least he's a tough asshat" Mao said, a half smile on his face.

"You seem on surprisingly amicable terms" the man behind him stated.

"Well, he's no rival. And I whooped him good too." His smile fully formed, the devilish grin of a spoiled brat caught up in his gloating

"Alone? That's no easy feat"

"W-well. Not alone. I had help. My" He searched for the word "... Slaves. They were of great use to me"

"Ah. Slaves, huh? Thousands upon thousands of them, flung in waves at some massive eldritch monstrosity? A slaughter to relish watching and to tire out your opponent?"

"More like... five or six well placed agents, striking with deadly precision"

"That doesn't sound like slaves at all"

"What are you talking about"

"Well, what kind of even mildly tough person would be someone's slave? Vassal, yes. Servant, sure. Mercenary, definitely. Slave? No."

Mao shifted uncomfortably, while the voice continued. "For that kind of cooperation, I'd say you needed..."

Mao cringed, knowing what was coming.

"Friends." The voice said, with a definitely pleased tone.

"W-What?" Mao found himself turning around, too eager to assault this demon.

"Maybe even a lover"

"WHAT!" Mao fully turned, extending a single finger and blasting it at the demon.

Zetta felt the blast, twice as tall as himself, engulf him. He faded away with the energy, a classic villain's death straight out of Demoncube Z.

"Not bad" Mao heard a voice to his left. "Pretty badass. Not very sporting, but hey, we're demons, right?"

"Right! Pretty badass indee- WAIT A MINUTE"

Zetta winked at Mao and from his open eye came a massive burst of energy, the size of any building in Demon Academy.

Mao lay in the ruins of what was once the west wing of the drama class' building. He tossed the blue haired wig that had fallen on his face to the side and glowered at the red haired demon, paralyzed with what he could have only identified as fear. "Who." He took a deep, pained breath "Who ARE you?"

"Most badass frickin overlord ever. Lord Zetta!"

It didn't take long for his friends to show up. He could see Beryl, her two delinquent servants, as well as Almaz and Sapphire not far behind. Where the hell was Champloo? Vyers? Salvatore? Zetta was obviously too tough for his friends to even distract. Mao was going to need the power of other overlords, or people who could at least keep up with them.

"Ah. Your... _**friends**_... are here" He said, turning around

"WAIT!" Mao screamed at the top of his lungs. "Guys, leave, now!"

"Mao! What's going on" He could hear Almaz yell from the other side of what was left of the building.

"Damn it Mao! What kind of rival would I be if I let you die?" He could hear Beryl shouting "At the least, I'm not going to fail you! Plus, this... bastard destroyed the drama club I took so many donations to have built!"

Zetta ignored her insults, and turned back to Mao "Three delinquents, a hero, and a _princess?_"

Mao turned his head, trying to hide his expression of dismay "Pfft. Like.. like I said. Slaves" he could barely mumble the last word.

Zetta couldn't help but smile. "Kids these days. You all lack creativity" he said. "I mean, sure, the classics make for a nice base, but, being nothing but an archetype, that can get boring fast, you know" His smile turned sheepish "not to mention the... unexpected consequences of an overinflated ego and brash, self-involved attitude"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mao yelled loudly. He glared at Zetta, lost in an entirely berserk expression. "SERVANTS! ATTACK!"

his friends flinched at the words, but reacted instinctively. They charged, desperately, at the new threat. The red maned overlord merely smiled, ready to teach these _people_ exactly what they would need to know. His job was officially halfway done.


	4. Chapter 4 Retirement

Mao woke up in excruciating pain, every muscle aching, every bone he could feel bruised from being tossed around like a ragdoll. Four Academy buildings destroyed, Twenty classrooms, the entire PTA, the ENTIRE Vato family, and one Gold Knuckle later and Zetta had hardly broken a sweat. Mao could barely pick himself up. He could see Zetta gloating in the opposite direction, and took the time to survey what was left of the Gym building he'd exploded in. He could just barely make out Almaz picking up the princess and moving to a hidden position. Asuka and Kyoko were nowhere to be found.

"Beryl" he could barely whisper to himself. She was on the floor, her tiny frame almost entirely covered by a much larger piece of rubble. His nerve endings screamed as he pushed the bit of rubble off of her, trying to be as silent as possible. Trying to ensure he didn't have Zetta's attention.

He picked up his rival's body, a solemn look on his face. He desperately checked her pulse and tried to listen to her breathing.

It was there. Faint, but there.

"Rivals, huh" He could hear Zetta's voice behind him. Serious, but kept to a volume that only Mao could hear.

"D.. Damn it" Mao said "We couldn't stop you. Not at all" He had already resigned himself to being beaten by this other overlord. If he couldn't stop him with his friends, how could he stop him alone.

"You made a respectable effort out of it" Zetta said calmly.

"Everyone is hurt, or run away. I fear the worse for some of your victims" Mao said, his eyes never leaving Beryl.

"You don't have to worry about that. She's a tough girl. You know that better than I do" Mao could feel Zetta's hand on his shoulder.

"You seem surprisingly patient and merciful for an overlord who came here to take over my netherworld"

"Wait, I'm here to take over your netherworld?"

"Why else would an overlord show up."

"Man can't look around and enjoy the landmarks?" Zetta asked in pseudo-mocking tone. "Look, the fact is. I was friends with your old man, alright. And now I hear he died." Zetta looked at him, brow raised.

Mao cringed at the way he put it. "I.." he sighed "yeah. I hate myself over it too."

Zetta just smiled "we've all got a lot to learn from our youth"

"What are you talking about, geezer"

"Well, from what I can tell, you don't seem too satisfied with your own behavior" Zetta looked at the boy, whose eyes wouldn't turn from the little succubus but for a split second to tell him off. "I mean, just look at your problem with that girl. You don't even know how to act around her anymore. Your little act is growing older than the two of you, and you're growing _out_ of it"

"So you're just here to beat me down and make fun of me then"

This idiot reminded Zetta of a younger self a little too much "Kid. Life is more complex than just destruction and gloating, alright. Now, you're on the cusp of discovering that little gem on your own, but learning it that way is going to cost you, and pretending that you haven't learned it at all is going to leave you a very lonely demon."

"Demons must relish..."

"Solitude? Really? That's what you're after here?" Zetta blasted off parts of the rubble, revealing Mao's defeated comrades, the other two delinquent girls, even the orc triplets "If I weren't here, very looming, badass, awesome threat that I am, you'd be crying like a baby, carrying that girl to the nearest hospital."

For once, Mao didn't have the choice of shutting up someone who told him the truth.

"You want solitude the same way prinnies want to do jobs for free. It's not even being a poser. At least a poser has a goddamn goal"

"So what do you want with me then?" Mao screamed. He could feel Beryl starting to move in his arms.

"It's not about what I want to do. It's about what you want." Zetta scoffed "When you can be honest with yourself, maybe you'll be worth my time"

"I am being honest with myself!" Mao's tone was insolent as ever

"Keep lying to me like that, and I'll make sure the succubus doesn't wake up from her sleep"

Mao's expression changed so quickly Zetta almost burst into laughter "F-Fine!" He stuttered "But we'd better do this someplace where everyone is out of earshot"

For once, the kid actually deserved some words of encouragement.


	5. Chapter 5 An Overlord's Training

_Show me what you can do_

Zetta's first lesson was one that would be taken before they went to his netherworld. It was by far the hardest thing he'd ever done. He had hugged Sapphire. He drank tea with Asuka and Kyoko. He said good bye to each of them. He shook Almaz's hand, gave him his favorite sword, and his Super Hero Aurum comic book collection. Mao had given Almaz the honorary title of "Hero general." He was no longer Mao's slave; in many ways Mao's equal. Sapphire was more than happy with the freedom Mao had granted him, but joyously accepted the new set of weapons he had made for her, all color coded to go with her outfit and each made out of an crafty and intelligent demon general. Asuka and Kyoko were each allowed to graduate, and granted their own "Delinquent Lord" titles.

But while he had said goodbye to them, and thanked the Vato Brothers, Salvatore, Master Big Star, even Gold Knuckle, one friend continued to elude him.

It was after he had searched for her three days straight and had given up, that she confronted him at the Makai Gate. To Mao, it was better this way anyway. The privacy of a desolate battlefield would be perfect for what he had to tell her.

"Only scum runs away, Mao" He could hear her voice, shaking just a little. "Not an honor student." She heaved that big book of hers. "Not a delinquent, either"

"I'm not running away, Beryl." For once, Mao sounded serious.

"Sure seems like it. Either that or you've surrendered yourself to Zetta" she said.

"It's neither, alright. I'm doing this for our netherworld"

"Doing WHAT. Mao?"

"I'm becoming Zetta's apprentice. And I need your help-"

She quickly cut him off "You're not going to get my help with ANYTHING, Mao. You're this netherworld's overlord. And that means if you leave, every overlord with half a brain is going to invade it. I can't let you do that. I'll break your LEGS if I have to to keep you here."

"ALRIGHT! FINE!" Mao's childish, insolent tone took over again "You want a fight you overblown do-gooder, you'll get a fight, a fight with the DEAN of EVIL ACADEMY!"

An evil laugh and a quick opener, runic symbols manifesting themselves in thin air, a massive icicle the size of a building propelled itself at Beryl.

Mao followed quickly behind his spell, sword drawn and charged with dark energy.

It was easy enough for Beryl to melt away the ice with a fire spell, but Mao's charge caught her by surprise.

His slash was barely deflected, her book swung in a desperate parry. The ground exploded, eldritch runes sketching themselves onto the floor. The explosion blasted Mao backward, while Beryl was harmlessly propelled into the sky. On the floor, he could see her using fire spells to precariously position herself for a falling charge straight at him. Runes surrounded her as she fell at him, faster and faster, until she... _exploded?_

But something cleared her explosion quickly enough. Purple and black, a sword fell, point down, straight at him. Dozens of runic circles formed around the blade.

Was she inventing her own techniques now?

As each rune dissapeared, another sword, similar in color but distinct in blade and hilt, warped itself into existence. Mao responded with a single grunt as he tried to run from the rain of deadly steel.

Blade after blade struck the floor in its own massive explosion, tossing the dean around like a cheap umbrella in the rain. Finally, one pinned him to the floor, a curved scimitar that had the tenacity to pierce his shoulder. He wrenched it out and got up, shoulder bleeding, shallow breaths being the best he could muster for speech.

The distinctly Raspberyl-colored sword poofed itself back to her form. He could see her taking a few steps back, hermetic runes appearing on every blade now stuck to the floor. He could see her open up her book and read some ancient spell from it "ANIMATE!" He could hear from the other side of the field. Every blade sprung to life on its own, they all charged Mao like a swarm of locusts. Very sharp locusts.

He parried a thrust, kicked a blade to the side, jumped on a third blade and rode its thrust out of the crowd. Ice spells burst from his hands, a calculated attempt to lower his new assailants' numbers. Burst after burst of sparkling ice mashed itself against the crowd of blades. She was showing no mercy. Was she that desperate to keep him around?

He could feel his transformation calling. He felt himself changing, skin turning black as pitch and horns growing from his head. He began to resemble his father in size, a massive winged demon with hatred in its eyes.

Four bursts of light turned into one massive pillar. A veritable Hadouken of demonic energy burst through the army of blades.

Straight towards Beryl.

But she was ready. He could hear her speaking as his beam burst through blade after blade. "That's the difference between honor students and delinquents, Mao!"

Her book glowed in a rainbow hue, an ancient eldritch sign on the cover and back. "Delinquents!" she began to reel back her book, then swung it with all her strength at the incoming blast, deflecting the beam to the side. "STUDY!"

The looming figure shifted back to the white haired boy's form. A burst of speed charged him towards the girl, blade ready for a wide swing. She barely managed to jump to the side, a small crater where she had been. She flung herself at him, runes shining in her hands.

Mao whipped himself around, flinging her to the side and setting him up for another attack.

He hit her book until it flung out of her hands "Stop it!"

"I don't want you to go! Nobody does!"

"Everyone else seemed pretty supportive." he let go of his sword, letting it drop to the ground as he approached her.

she got up, favoring her right arm "I can cast spells without that thing, you know" Her hands began to make arcane gestures.

He quickly grabbed both hands and clasped them together "No" he stuttered "No more"

She looked up at him, her eyes watering. He could hear her voice cracking "You're my rival. You're supposed to be here for me."

"Trust me" he told her. "I am doing this for you. For everyone here. I will come back. I promise."

He had to do what Zetta had asked of him. Hands shaking, he got on one knee. Tentatively pulling her closer. "I need your help" she heard him say, as softly as he could. "I need you to take care of my netherworld"

"I'll take care of it with you here. We'll take care of it together, with the rest"

"And if someone like Zetta comes along? At least he wants to make me better. I want to go. He knew my father. I... I have to make it up to my father. I have to be an overlord worthy of his respect. I feel I have to go. I don't want to lose anyone else, I don't want to be the cause of any more pain for anyone who doesn't deserve it."

"I don't want you to go"

Mao dropped to his knees, her hands still in his. The white haired demon was still over a foot taller than her. "I'm going to become the greatest overlord this netherworld has ever seen. And I'm going to come back. I promise"

He pulled her closer, his hands shaking more, until she was inches away, looking straight into his eyes. "I need you to take care of this netherworld. People here like you. They even respect you." slowly, tentatively, he reached out to put his hand on her cheek. He could feel her turn warm, her breaths becoming more shallow. "I need you to be in charge, and lead the demons here. I've seen you do it before. I need you to do it again, for however long it takes"

Beryl put her hand on his, covering her cheek. "The power of an overlord, huh." She smiled at him "You're lucky I'm so merciful"

He smiled back, moving his hand from her cheek, past her neck, to the back of her head. He could feel her soft hair, and couldn't help but run his hand through it.

"M... Mao" her look of surprise was especially satisfying to him.

He put his left arm around her hips, and pulled her close to him, until he could feel her head on his chest. He rubbed her scalp with his right hand, fingertips gently feeling through her hair, waiting for some sign from her that he had gone too far.

She put her arms around his back, a tight cling that dug her head deeper into his chest. He ignored the pressure from her tiny horns, and leaned his head down to kiss her on her crown.

This time he could hear her make a small noise. She turned her head up to look at him. "Mao. What are you doing"

He smiled and stood back up, lifting her with him. She was a over a foot off the ground. Standing, He pulled her closer, so she could be on an equal level to him, her eyes barely an inch below his. "I'm going to miss you" he admitted to her, putting his forehead on hers.

She moved her arms to wrap them around his head, feeling his shoulders and back with one hand, and his hair with the other. "Don't... don't make me say it"

It felt like an eternity to gather the courage to approach her lips with his own. He felt himself stuttering, looking to the sides, trying to stall. Finally he pressed them against hers. It was barely a kiss. His lips had touched hers just barely, once, then twice. The third the two had opened their lips a little, just enough to genuinely feel like a passionate expression. He could taste her. Something about her natural scent set him off, his stomach churning, a heavy knot unraveling in tension. Her eyes were closed, her face bright red. For a moment, he felt his grip becoming harder, but her tiny frame and surprisingly innocent expression were enough to make him be as gentle as possible. He immediately placed his head to her side, gently nuzzling her neck while pulling her in very closely. He could hear her heavy breathing turn into a tiny restrained gasp, her hands almost pulling at his hair and gently scratching at his back.

When he finally stopped, and got a look at her face again, she looked all too pleased.

"Surprisingly loving for an Honor Student" she said, smiling

"Pretty damn passionate for a Delinquent" he teased back.

He kissed her again, this time a simple and soft peck on the lips, before speaking. "I should get going to the Makai Gate"

"I'll walk with you there"

It had taken half an hour to get to the gate, massive swirling blue-hued monstrosity that it was.

"How long will I-" she stopped herself "Will your netherworld have to wait?"

He turned to her, with a tired expression. "Fifty years"

Her eyes widened. Two or three years were acceptable, maybe. Fifty years of training was not the kind of patience most demons could afford to have. "Fifty! Fifty years, Mao?"

He smiled, unclasped his red jacket and put it on her shoulders. He gave her another hug, wrapping his arms around hers so she could barely hug him back. "I'll be back for this. And for you. I promise"

Mao was satisfied with his exit. Raspberyl had turned so red that her face complemented her hair's color. She shifted uncomfortably in the coat, already unsure of how to wear it (or if she should) when he returned.

He hoped he would be as satisfied in his return.


End file.
